The End of the Beginning
by Gmariam
Summary: Jack and Ianto navigate the aftermath of Bilis Manger's manipulations after Jack's trip to the dance hall in 1941, Ianto's shooting of a coworker, and the Rift opening that is slowly splintering time.
1. Chapter 1

_"This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning."_ _Winston Churchill_

1.

The past was the past. Jack knew that, even as a former time traveler able to experience it as the present. Having lived for over 150 years, he also knew that what was done was done and could not be changed. He'd learned long ago that there were some things he couldn't regret forever, and taking the name Jack Harkness had been one of them.

Until he had met the man whose name he had taken.

Jack had only known that the Captain had died in battle. He'd died a hero, and when Jack had been in 1941 the first time, working his con with the Chula ship, he'd rather fancied both the name and the idea of it being the name of a war hero. Not that he envisioned himself a hero—far from it, in fact. He'd been running from the Time Agency, pulling cons in a desperate attempt to bury the pain of betrayal and the fear of being captured. If taking a hero's name had helped him play at being brave, what was the harm in it?

He'd found it easy to keep the name, growing into it during his travels with the Doctor. It was similar enough to his own, rolling off his tongue easily and with charm. And for a time, Jack was reminded of the man he'd taken it from, until he slowly began to find that he didn't need to run anymore, didn't need to hide. He wouldn't claim he had become Jack Harkness, the 20th century war hero, but he'd become his own version, a changed man, and he had even liked that version of himself at times.

Now that he had met the man who had died in a fiery plane crash, Jack found himself questioning his entire identity. It had been a hell of a year, with everything going steadily downhill since the destruction of Torchwood One. He'd been carrying on as Cardiff's leader fairly well until London fell, but it was as if the Battle of Canary Wharf had set off the decline of Torchwood Three even as it wiped out Torchwood One. Jack had lost people, had been forced to sacrifice others, had been betrayed and killed and questioned and doubted. To say the last eight months had been difficult was an understatement. More had happened since Ianto Jones had stumbled into Cardiff after Canary Wharf than had happened since Jack had formed his small team after Alex Hopkins committed suicide.

Which made Jack question his reasons for even being there, for staying, for trying to do the right thing as he waited for the Doctor. Maybe the gig was up. Maybe it was time he stopped playing at being a leader, a hero, since he was clearly not half the man the real Jack Harkness was. Maybe it was time he left Torchwood for good, before he really messed up and ruined someone's life—or destroyed the planet.

The thought rolled through his mind over and over: he was a failure, unworthy of the name he had taken so long ago. It would be better for everyone if he packed his bags and left. Given how well his team had handled themselves with the Rift—never mind that one of them had shot another—he was reasonably confident that they could manage without him. Especially if they had Ianto.

Which was the one thing that made him pause. Yes, he felt responsible for Tosh, but the others would look out for her. And yes, he was acutely aware of Owen's internal pain, but there was nothing he could do for the doctor anymore. Gwen…well, Gwen reminded him so much of Rose that he knew she'd be fine, especially with her exceptionally steadfast boyfriend. But Ianto…who would look out for Ianto, if he was busy taking care of the rest of the team, making sure Torchwood stayed standing, ready to save the world?

He would miss Ianto more than any of them. Somehow, they had moved past the hurt and betrayal of the incident with Lisa Hallett, and their unconventional relationship had become important to Jack. He cared about Ianto, more than he let himself care about most people he slept with. They worked together, they slept together, but they also talked and enjoyed _being_ together. They didn't do much, like go out to dinner or a movie; much of their interaction was done without words—a look, a touch, a smile. Yet it had come to mean something to Jack, and he felt closer to Ianto than the others, trusted him more than anyone.

Which made his actions in 1941 even more confusing.

 _Do you have anyone back home?_

 _No, there's no one._

A lie. Jack felt his heart cringe at the very thought of it. He did have someone, but at that moment, his longing for a time he'd once held dear and his despair at having to relive it all a second time had swept Ianto from his mind. Jack might not have beat himself up for betraying other lovers, but this time he did, because while he had been letting himself fall for both Bilis Manger's manipulation and Jack Harkness's sad charm, Ianto Jones had been steadfast and loyal, fighting for Jack and for Cardiff.

Jack was not a man to let his conscience weight on him, not when it came to matters of the heart. He tried to do right by his friends and lovers, but he could not carry every bad decision on his shoulders; he'd collapse under the weight. Yet for the first time in years Jack was acutely aware of having wronged someone and he desperately wanted to make it right.

He told himself he wasn't clinging to the memory of Jack Harkness by holding tight to the reality of Ianto Jones. What he had with Ianto had been developing for weeks, and Jack didn't want to lose it because of one temporal shift and a lack of hope of his part. Maybe the possibility of never seeing Ianto again had jolted him into realizing how much the other man meant to him.

Besides, if he were going to seriously contemplate leaving Torchwood, he could not do it without telling Ianto. He even entertained the idea of asking the Welshman to join him, but he knew Ianto would stay. Ianto's loyalty to Jack would not let him betray his duty to Torchwood, Cardiff, or Wales. Torchwood needed him…but so did Jack.

Confused and upset, Jack needed to talk to Ianto. Not shag, but actually talk. He needed to tell someone what it had meant to meet the real Jack Harkness, how the guilt was eating at him, how he wasn't sure who he was or what he was doing anymore. He needed to tell Ianto everything, including his past; he only hoped that the man could find it in him to listen.

It was a short drive to Ianto's flat, but to Jack it felt as if it were twice as long. He was nervous, almost to the point of turning around. Yet if he did that, he'd turn and run, and he needed to see Ianto first. So he pushed past his fear and anxiety, parked the SUV, and forced himself to walk to the door.

He was surprised when his knock was answered by Toshiko.

"Tosh!" he exclaimed, stepping back on reflex. "What are you doing here?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Having dinner with Ianto. What are you doing here?"

There was a tone to her voice that Jack couldn't place: surprised, skeptical, disappointed? He felt unwelcome, which was odd, considering it had only been a few hours since he and Tosh had toasted Captain Jack Harkness in his office. He thought she had understood.

"Er," he said, then tried to smile. "Just checking up on Ianto. It's not every day he has to shoot a coworker."

"A coworker who hit and kicked him," murmured Tosh, her face dark. Jack hadn't heard about that and frowned; maybe her bad mood wasn't directed at him then.

"What? Look, is Ianto around? I don't want to interrupt, but I would like to talk to him."

"He's about to pick up the take-away," said a voice from behind Tosh, and Ianto was there, pulling on his jacket. His face was distant, and he avoided Jack's eyes. Jack sensed from both Tosh's reaction and Ianto's that something was wrong.

"Isn't that usually delivered?" Jack asked, forcing a lightness to his voice that he didn't feel.

"Not when I need some air." Ianto raised an eyebrow, and Jack stepped aside to let him pass without question. "I'll be back in ten minutes, Tosh. Wine's in the fridge." He glanced at Jack, though the mask didn't crack. "Will you be joining us, sir? I'll pick up some extra food if so."

Jack stared at him, sparing a look at Tosh. "Uh, no, that's all right. Thanks. I'll touch base with Tosh and head back to the Hub. See you in the morning?"

The look on Ianto's face was still undecipherable as he nodded. He smiled at Tosh, then turned and left Jack standing awkwardly in the hallway, Tosh equally uncomfortable when they had been so close only hours earlier. Jack couldn't stand it.

"Tosh?" he asked. "Is everything all right? Did I interrupt something between you and Ianto?"

Her eyes went wide, the implication in Jack's question clear. "What? No! Of course not, Jack. Why would you say that?"

"Because you're both acting like you've been caught in bed by your parents," he laughed nervously. Tosh rolled her eyes, and Jack couldn't help but sigh in relief, that he hadn't in fact walked in on two of his coworkers in a romantic situation, especially when he was sleeping with one of them.

"Are you all right, then?" he asked. "How's your hand?"

She finally graced him with a smile, and his heart relaxed somewhat, that she wasn't so angry at him to refuse to smile. "My hand's fine, thank you," she said. She invited him inside, though she seemed reluctant.

He glanced around Ianto's flat, curious as always. It'd been a few weeks since he'd last been there, and he wanted to stay even though he'd turned down the invitation. It wasn't much, but it was far more welcoming than his bunker ever was. "Do you two have dinner often?"

She shrugged. "We do, yes. Tonight seemed like a good night for it. Lots to talk about."

"Ah," said Jack, nodding. "Checking up on him too?"

"Owen told me what happened while he was working on my hand," she said. "How they argued about using the Rift manipulator. I thought Ianto could use a friend. I imagine Gwen is probably busy holding Owen's—"

"Hand," finished Jack, not wanting to go there. "If they're even together. I think that ended with Diane."

Tosh sighed. "Ianto said that's one reason Owen wanted to open the Rift. For Diane."

Jack had suspected as much, though neither man had said anything. Both had been tight-lipped about their confrontation when Jack had questioned them before dismissing the team for the day.

"I should check up on him too," Jack murmured. He knew he should, given that Owen had been injured and was probably hurting emotionally as well, but he needed to talk to Ianto, if only Tosh wasn't there.

"You should probably talk to Ianto first," said Tosh. She sighed. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I know they didn't. Owen was horrible to him. They physically fought about using the Rift manipulator, Jack. Owen kicked Ianto hard, called him names—and not their usual kind of bickering."

"You don't have to say anything, Tosh," Jack said softly. "I don't want you to break a confidence."

"Ianto will never tell you, and neither will Owen, but Owen told me. I think he feels bad, and not because he got shot. He knows he crossed the line. When I asked Ianto about it, he said it was all true." She was watching him closely, and Jack was more terrified in that moment than he had been all day.

"What was true?" He couldn't help but ask, though he knew he shouldn't. Tosh looked at him so sadly that he felt his heart break, that he could have possibly disappointed her so much.

"Owen called Ianto your part-time shag, Jack," she said. "Called him pathetic and said a lot of other awful things." She paused. "Is it true?"

"What?" he asked, his mind already racing.

"That you and Ianto are…you know."

In any other situation, Jack would have proudly acknowledged Ianto as his lover with no doubts whatsoever. Yet now he had so many. Tosh was looking at him with something close to disappointment, and Ianto had barely acknowledged him. Then there was his experience with Captain Jack Harkness, which Tosh was well aware of…was that where the disappointment came from? Had she told Ianto about Jack's ill-fated kiss in the past?

"It's complicated," Jack said softly.

"Are you sleeping together?" asked Tosh, and Jack nodded, feeling miserable because he knew what was coming.

"Yeah."

"Jack…" She started, and he stopped her.

"I know," he said, his voice cracking. "I know what you must be thinking, after what happened in the dance hall. And you have every right to question it, to judge me…only it's not what you think, Tosh. And that's why I came to see Ianto, to talk to him."

She was silent for a moment before answering. "I didn't tell him about Captain Harkness, if you're wondering. And I'm glad I didn't. He doesn't need to know about that, not now."

"But he knows something happened," said Jack, guessing at the reason for Ianto's cold reception at the door.

"He knows you met your namesake," said Tosh. "He knows you came back upset about something. And he's upset about shooting Owen. I think he's confused. You've kept your secrets close, Jack, from all of us, but you're sleeping with him. Is he someone you should be keeping secrets from?"

"It's not like that," said Jack. "We're not…" They weren't what? He liked Ianto, and he trusted Ianto, but no one knew all his secrets. Gwen only knew he couldn't die because she'd seen it, and now Tosh knew about his past because she'd been there with him to see it firsthand. Why hadn't he told Ianto?

"Maybe not," said Tosh. "But he shot Owen, Jack, and he did it out of loyalty to you. He did it because he knew how dangerous opening the Rift was, because you told us to never, ever to open the Rift."

"He would have left us there, Tosh," Jack pointed out, even though he knew it was a weak argument. "We would have had to live through the war."

Tosh touched his arm, and the gesture of sympathy warmed his heart. "I know it would have been hard for you. I think that's why you lost yourself so quickly. But he made a hard decision, a decision for Cardiff, not for us. And he feels awful about it."

"He told you that?"

She dropped her head and lowered her voice. "It's like what happened to Lisa all over again. He tried to do the right thing, but he feels like he's failed all over again. The guilt is eating at him, Jack. He doesn't believe he deserves to be here after what he did." She glanced up and met his eyes. "I think he wants to leave."

"No," Jack whispered, shaking his head. Ianto couldn't leave him, couldn't leave Torchwood. And yet…hadn't Jack been thinking the exact same thing? That he didn't deserve to be there, that they'd all be better off without him? God, Torchwood ruined everyone.

Tosh nodded, then turned and began to pull on her shoes and gather her purse. "I think it's important you talk to him. He's confused and he deserves some truths, like you told me. Especially if you're sleeping with him."

"Tosh…"Jack started, and stopped, unsure what to say.

"You don't have to tell him everything," said Tosh, and sighed. "And frankly, I don't think you should. I don't understand what happened with Captain Harkness, and I hope it's not what I thought. I suspect it's just as complicated as whatever it is with Ianto."

"I guess so," said Jack. His shoulders slouched and he ran a hand through his hair. "What a day."

"That's Torchwood for you," she said with a shrug. "But Jack? Can I ask you one more thing?"

He braced himself, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

"Was Owen right about it being nothing more than a part-time shag?"

"No," he answered honestly, surprised at how quickly and easy the answer came. It wasn't true. Ianto was not a part-time shag. It was more than that, even if neither one of them could say what it was exactly. Which meant maybe it was time to figure it out, before one of them left for good. "No, Tosh, it's not like that, and I'm sorry Owen said that."

She studied him again before stepping forward to press a light kiss to his cheek. "Then make sure Ianto knows that. It might convince him to stay."

Jack felt his stomach drop at her last comment. It was that bad, then. He'd come to Ianto's flat hoping to talk about his experience in 1941, knowing that if he left Torchwood he needed to tell Ianto the truth. He'd never stopped to consider that Ianto had been through his own difficult time back at the Hub, that the Welshman might be feeling the same guilt, confusion, and debilitating self-doubt that Jack felt. And he'd never imagined that Ianto would leave Torchwood first.

Which meant he'd have to convince Ianto to stay. And if Ianto stayed, then Jack would as stay as well, and they could be damned together.

* * *

Author's Note:

The title is from the quotation by Winston Churchill referenced at the beginning, which is from a speech he gave in 1942. As I was looking for quotations and titles to fit what I was trying to do with this, it jumped out at me as rather fitting for these episodes and this story. Jack and Ianto's beginning was strained over the course of the first season, their relationship most likely nothing more than casual, and here it comes to an end. When Jack returns, they will start something new, both of them changed by the events of 'End of Days,' Jack's disappearance, and the months before his return. I started this story years ago and kept coming back to it without knowing where to take it. At one point I considered the possibility of taking it in a completely AU direction: Ianto does leave Torchwood, and only comes back before KKBB to help the team. But that never settled, and instead I'm playing with the idea of the episode 'Captain Jack Harkness' causing a crisis of faith for both them. In particular, I can't help but wonder how Ianto felt about shooting Owen. I also have some real issues with what happened between Jack and original Jack and have touched on that as well. This story is about six chapters long and almost complete. Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Ianto walked with his head down, hiding his scowl from the rest of the world. He was in a wretched mood and knew he'd snap at anyone who even looked at him different, which, considering his appearance—hair mussed, waistcoat and tie undone, bruise on his face—was fairly likely. So he tucked the takeaway under his arm and walked as quickly as he could back to his flat.

He hoped Jack was gone. Ianto knew he'd been horrible to Jack when he'd left to pick up the food, abandoning him on the threshold with Tosh, but Jack was the very last person—next to Owen, of course—whom Ianto wanted to see. He would have preferred to be by himself—either drinking himself unconscious or packing his bags—but Tosh had called and insisted on coming over. She'd heard about his scuffle with Owen and wanted to talk to him about it.

In a way, he was both mortified yet glad that someone knew, and that someone cared. Owen certainly wasn't going to be apologizing any time soon even if he had expressed remorse to Tosh (which Ianto seriously doubted anyway); Gwen was, as usual, focused on other things and would likely never pick up on the tension; and as far as Ianto was concerned, Jack would never find out. Because Ianto would resign first, leaving Torchwood and every awful memory of it behind him.

It had been an easy decision. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it before. After Lisa had died, after the cannibals had tried to use him for stew, after crashing his car, after watching a dead coworker come to life—Ianto went home every week and wondered what the hell he was still doing with Torchwood. Why he didn't run as fast as he could and start over someplace quiet, far away from aliens and rifts in time.

He never came up with an answer, but today was the day he stopped wondering. He couldn't do this anymore; he was a failure and had become someone he didn't recognize most days. Ianto had to leave, before he lost everything, including his life.

He was surprised to find Tosh sitting outside his building when he returned. She looked cold and nervous, and he frowned, wondering why she wasn't still upstairs in his flat. He sat down beside her and glanced around. "Are we having a picnic, then?" he asked lightly. She eyed him sideways, a small smile on her face.

"No, it's a bit chilly for that," she said. "I wanted to see you before I left, though."

Ianto frowned. "I thought we were having dinner?" He picked up the bag of food and shook it. "Your favorite? Extra naan? Plenty of alcohol to forget this day ever happened?"

"I know, and I'd really like to stay, but…" She trailed off, gazing across the street to avoid meeting his eyes. "Jack came to see you, and I think you should talk to him."

Ianto felt his body tense, and he took a slow breath so that he didn't snap at Tosh. It wasn't her fault that Jack had shown up, and it was entirely possible that Jack had ordered her to leave.

"I wish you'd stay," he said softly. "You know I don't want to see him right now."

"I know," she said, sounding miserable about it. "But if you're really thinking about leaving Torchwood, you have to talk to him."

"I'm not thinking about it," Ianto replied. "I've made up my mind and written my letter. I'd prefer to talk to him at work, where it belongs. Not at my flat."

"But don't you think…I mean, if you're sleeping with him…" She trailed off, obviously uncomfortable. "Don't you think you should talk to him about it, as more than your boss?"

Ianto shook his head. "No, because this is about my job, and he _is_ my boss. And he's nothing more than my boss, Tosh. It was just shagging."

"Are you sure?" she asked quietly.

"Absolutely," he said, hoping he sounded more sure than he felt. "You know what he's like, Tosh. You said it yourself once, that he'll sleep with anyone. Well, I was anyone."

"I shouldn't have said that," she said. "It wasn't fair to Jack. He's different than we think, you know. He smiles and flirts, but he feels things. Deeply. When we were in 1941, he—" She stopped, her eyes going wide as she shook her head and abruptly stood up. "I should go."

"What happened in 1941, Tosh?" Ianto asked, standing with her. "That's the second time you've stopped yourself. Why can't you tell us?"

"Because it's not my business," she said. "And I don't want to gossip. But you know he met the man who shares his name, Captain Jack Harkness. It was in the paper. That man died the day after we left. Jack knew Captain Harkness was going to die, but he also knew he couldn't do anything to stop it without changing history. And he was devastated."

Ianto nodded, starting to piece things together. "Hence your little tête-à-tête

when you returned? Toasting the fallen war hero?"

"Jack's a good man," Tosh insisted. "He cares deeply, sometimes so much I think he makes mistakes because of it. We don't give him enough credit."

"I know that, Tosh," Ianto said with a sigh. "And I believe it. I wouldn't have slept with him if I thought he was a monster. But I don't see what that has to do with what we were talking about. I'm still leaving Torchwood."

"But we need you!" she exclaimed. "Ianto, you do so much for us I don't know how we got on without you. We'd be lost if you left."

He pulled her into an embrace. "Tosh, I lied to the team. I slept with my boss. I shot a coworker this afternoon. You don't need a man like that to make you coffee. You're better off without me."

"No!" She clung to him before pulling away. "Please talk to Jack. He'll help you figure this out."

"I don't need help," Ianto replied with a frown. "I need to get away from this life, before I don't recognize myself anymore." He sighed. "But he's still up there, isn't he? In my flat, waiting for me?"

"Yes," she said. "And I think he's confused. Manger sent us to that dance hall for a reason, and he's struggling to understand why. We all are. Losing you will only make it worse."

Ianto laughed and bent over to pick up his food. "I seriously doubt that. He'll find someone else to warm his bed within a week, and if you know what to order, Costa isn't half bad."

"Ianto Jones, you're being ridiculous and you know it," Tosh said, actually stamping her foot in frustration. "Call me in the morning when you're ready to talk sense." She softened her words with a kiss on the cheek before she turned to leave. Ianto watched her go, dreading the return to his flat. He briefly contemplated returning to the Hub and locking himself in the Archives to eat his dinner; maybe he could even sleep on a cot somewhere so he was ready to resign first thing in the morning.

But Jack was upstairs, waiting for him in his flat. He may not have owed Jack anything as his boss that couldn't wait until morning, but perhaps as his lover, Ianto needed to tell him the truth that night. And the truth was, he had betrayed his friends, slept with his boss (after trying to kill him, of course), and shot a co-worker; Ianto couldn't live with being that person anymore. He'd always known Torchwood would take his life, but he'd never thought it would take his soul as well.

* * *

Author's Note:

For some reason, Ianto's chapters are much shorter. This idea—that Ianto couldn't stand being the kind of person who would shoot a coworker, even for the right reasons—was the starting idea for this story. We tend to view Ianto as unfailingly loyal to Torchwood and to Jack, but what if his self-loathing overwhelmed any personal loyalty he felt? I'm also sort of fascinated by stories where Ianto leaves Torchwood, because it seems to bring him more heartbreak than anything and I like the idea of him recognizing this and doing something about it instead of accepting it. That said, this story is canon and I hope you enjoy a slightly different look at these characters and their internal thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Jack jumped up when he heard the door open, tucking his hands into his pockets as he watched Ianto trudge into his flat. He looked like he was walking to his execution, though he quickly replaced the look of dread on his face as he entered, pulling on the mask he wore at work. He even offered a small attempt at a half-smile.

"Looks like it's just us," he said, holding up the bag of food. "If you're hungry, that is."

"I could go for something," said Jack, following him into the tiny kitchen. "If you don't mind me staying."

Ianto set the bag down and began to take out some plates. He pulled a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, then put it back and took out two beers instead. Handing one to Jack, he shrugged. "Tosh says we should talk."

"If you're thinking about leaving Torchwood, then yes, we need to talk," Jack replied, before realizing his error. Ianto pressed his lips together, obviously holding back an angry retort.

"So Tosh told you, did she?" he asked, then sighed as he sat down. He busied himself with taking out the cartons and dishing himself a large plate of food. After a long sip of beer, he continued.

"I can't do this job anymore, sir," he said. Jack frowned at the formal address and opened his mouth to say something, but Ianto held up his hand and continued.

"I shot a man tonight," he said. "Not an alien, or someone possessed by an alien. Not even your run-of-the-mill human criminal. I shot Owen. I shot a coworker I almost consider a friend." He stuffed his mouth, angrily chewing a chunk of bread before continuing. "And I shot him with the clear understanding that doing so would strand two other co-workers in the past, effectively sentencing them to death."

"Oh, I'm much harder to kill than that," Jack murmured. Ianto rolled his eyes; now was apparently not the time for levity, even if Jack's words were quite literally true.

"I don't want to be that kind of person," Ianto said. "I can't be that kind of person. Torchwood's taken enough…I can't let it take my conscience."

"Then don't let it!" Jack exclaimed, leaning forward. "Ianto, you did what you thought was right. You protected the Rift, at any cost. Like I told you."

"Any cost?" Ianto replied, stabbing a piece of chicken. "You mean, your life? I placed the safety of the Rift over your life, and Tosh, and even Owen. I can't make those kinds of decisions. I don't _want_ to make those kinds of decisions."

"You did your job," Jack told him, willing the other man to believe him. In truth, he was incredibly impressed with Ianto's determination to protect the Rift, regardless of the cost to him and Tosh. "You know the Rift is dangerous when it's opened. It wasn't a question of choosing the Rift over us—it was about protecting Cardiff. You were trying to protect Cardiff."

Ianto looked at him with so much pain and regret that Jack felt his heart break. "Then I failed at that too," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Because Owen still opened it, and god knows what will happen now."

Jack took a deep breath. "Hopefully nothing. It was an unstable opening, but it was quick. We've got as many programs as we can tracking things to make sure nothing starts acting up."

"And if it does?" Ianto asked.

"Then we fix it," Jack replied.

Ianto set down his fork and pushed his plate away. For all the food he'd taken, apparently he wasn't that hungry. "I can't help you if it does," he said. "I've made up my mind. I'm resigning from Torchwood, effective immediately."

Jack sat back, rubbing his face in frustration. "I can't let you do that," he said. "We need you."

"You don't need me. I'm just the teaboy." The bitterness was clear, heavy and painful to hear. He stared at the table, his face blank. Jack knew he needed to tread carefully.

"And you believe that, because Owen said it?" he asked, and Ianto's head whipped up.

"So Tosh told you that too, then?" he snapped. "Did she tell you what else he said?"

"No, she didn't," Jack lied, knowing that he couldn't betray Tosh and hurt her friendship with Ianto. "I watched the CCTV footage."

Ianto let his head fall into his hands. "Oh, that's even better. Brilliant."

"I'm sorry about what he did, what he said," Jack told him quietly.

"Which part?" Ianto asked. "The part about my dead girlfriend, about shagging my boss, or me personally?"

"Ianto," Jack started, but Ianto stood up and took his plate to the sink.

"Look, I can't talk about this," Ianto said. "It's too tangled up right now." He took a deep breath. "You should go. I'll see you in the morning and turn in my badge then." He turned and left the kitchen, grabbing his beer as he walked.

"No." Jack put his plate next to Ianto's and followed him. "You can't leave, not like this."

"I'm not staying," Ianto said. "You can't force me."

"I can," Jack said, but he knew it was another lie. He wouldn't, because he couldn't hurt Ianto. He couldn't hurt any of them, but especially Ianto.

"But you won't," Ianto replied. "You can't Retcon me, I've been with Torchwood too long. And you won't kill me, because you didn't before." He turned bright eyes on Jack. "I can't do this anymore, Jack. I need to get away from the all the death and destruction, the lies and betrayals."

Jack was at a loss. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He'd wanted so badly to talk to Ianto about his experience that day, his own pain and grief, but even without Tosh's warning, he knew he couldn't. They may not have had a conventional relationship by any definition of the word, but even he knew that confessing anything about his dance with Jack Harkness now might only hurt the Welshman more.

"Is this really about Owen?" Jack asked.

"In part, yes."

"Is it about us?"

Ianto looked genuinely surprised. "What?"

"Is it about what Owen said about us?"

The other man's face transformed from shock to scorn. "There is no us, Jack. And give me some credit, for Christ's sake. I'm not some lovesick lap dog, trailing you around for a quick fuck in the archives. I knew what I was getting into, and I know what I'm getting out of."

"Which is?" Jack asked, trying to ignore the unexpected hurt Ianto's confession caused.

Ianto seemed to be considering his words. "Owen was right about one thing," he said. "I was your part-time shag. And you were mine. And it was fine. It was good, because it was what we needed. But I don't want to be a part-time shag anymore, just like I don't want to be the teaboy fetching coffee and dumping bodies. I don't want to be a failure, Jack. I want more."

"From me?" It slipped out in surprise, and Ianto shook his head, almost rolling his eyes.

"Of course not. This thing between us wasn't meant to be anything more," he said. "What Owen said, though…it opened my eyes. I want more from my _life._ I don't want to be the guy who sleeps with his boss. And I don't want to be the guy who keeps betraying and shooting my coworkers either."

"So you're quitting."

"Moving on," Ianto said. "Jack, I'm rubbish at this! I was a PA and a lab rat in London, not a field agent trying to save the world." He paused. "Not usually, anyway."

Jack walked over to the couch and sat down, elbows falling to his knees as he gazed at the floor for a long time. When he glanced up, Ianto was watching him with an anxious, expectant look on his face.

"You're wrong about not being good at this," Jack said. "You are damn good at your job, and I'm not talking about cleaning and filing. You're brilliant, and we need you." Ianto started to protest, but Jack shook his head and continued. "I can see why you would feel like you're not, after what happened with Owen. And I understand wanting to leave Torchwood, because I felt the same way an hour ago. In fact, a part of me came here to say the same thing."

Ianto frowned. "What do you mean? You're leaving Torchwood?"

Jack shrugged, embarrassed now that he'd confessed his earlier thoughts. Of course he wasn't, not now. "I thought about it. I'm no good at this either, Ianto. I shouldn't be leading this team, look at how many times I've messed up. Over and over and over. You may think I like the danger and the drama, but deep down…I'm more like you. Sometimes I want a normal life."

The sides of Ianto's mouth quirked up. "Can't really see you with a house, two kids, and a dog in the garden. You'd probably flirt with the neighbors too much."

Jack smiled in acknowledgment. "Probably. And no, that's not exactly for me, not right now. But Torchwood…it does something to you. Something that lets you shoot some coworkers and sleep with others. Sometimes I want to let it all go."

"So you're…what? Planning to resign? Retire?" He smirked. "I know you're older than you look, but you're not that old, Jack."

"I thought about it," Jack admitted, ignoring Ianto's comment about his age. "Because after being stuck in 1941, I realized I am nothing compared to those men and women who sacrificed their lives."

Ianto seemed to study him for a moment. "You mean Captain Harkness. Captain Jack Harkness, the man in the photograph that you met."

Jack nodded, thinking of the man he'd left behind in 1941, also unhappy in such a dark yet beautiful time. "He was a squadron leader, celebrating one last night with his men before shipping out. He was killed the next day."

Ianto was leaning against the wall, sipping his beer with a crooked smile. "You fancied him," he said, nodding to himself. "That's what Tosh wouldn't tell me. You went back in time, met your namesake, and probably snogged him."

Jack eye's widened before he could stop himself, and he prepared for the inevitable explosion. Ianto rolled his eyes instead. "Of course you did," he said, shaking his head. "You're not one to pass up a tragic figure with a pretty face."

"It wasn't like that," Jack said, standing up and starting to pace. "And I didn't mean for it to happen, but he asked me to dance, and then the Rift opened, and—"

"Stop." Ianto held up his hand and looked away with a pained expression. "Jack, you don't need to tell me, and I don't want to know. It's not like we have any kind of agreement, or arrangement, after all."

"No, but I—"

"Although it bothers me to think that you were taking your time to enjoy the locals while we were busting our arses to get you back." He laughed bitterly and threw himself into a chair, as far away from Jack as he could get. "Or, in my case, trying _not_ to get you back."

Jack turned and looked at him. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Ianto asked bitterly. "You had no idea what we were doing here. For all you knew, you might have been stuck there. Better to start making friends right away than waste away alone." He rubbed his face and groaned. "This is why I have to leave. Because this is so messed up I don't even know what to think about any of it anymore."

"It's Torchwood," said Jack with shrug, sitting down again and falling back against the sofa. "Only thing we can do is keep doing what we do."

Ianto glanced sideways at him. "That's bullshit, you know. Especially when you consider how completely incompetent we are most days."

"Oh, I don't know," said Jack. "You did bring us back."

"Owen did, and that was down to dumb luck," Ianto replied. "We don't know what the consequences will be."

"We'll do what we have to do," Jack said, but Ianto gave him a skeptical look.

"You were just telling me how terrible you are at this job, and listen to you now—ready to save the world five minutes later!"

"I don't have a choice," Jack snapped. "Someone needs to do it."

"Not me," said Ianto, jumping up and taking his beer into the kitchen. "I mean it, Jack. I'm done with Torchwood. No more aliens, no more time travel, nothing. It's over."

"And us?" Jack asked, coming to stand behind where Ianto stood at the kitchen sink, angrily rinsing their barely touched dishes.

"We already said there wasn't an us," Ianto pointed out. "And whatever it was is over. I had a good time, but I'm not going to be a part-time shag anymore. Especially if I have to compete with ghosts from sixty years ago."

Jack blew out a frustrated breath. "I told you it wasn't like that."

"And I still don't want to know what it was actually like," said Ianto. He sounded more frustrated and hurt than angry. "Right now I want to go to bed, wake up in the morning, and start planning a new life."

"You really want to leave Torchwood?" Jack asked, moving forward. Ianto turned and eyed him warily.

"I have to," he said quietly.

"You don't," Jack replied. "We need you."

"I don't believe that," said Ianto. "You don't need someone to do the things I do—the good or the bad."

"I need you," Jack said, realizing how true it was as his voice broke. He had come to rely on Ianto, and not only professionally but personally as well. He would miss so much about Ianto, he was surprised it had taken him so long to realize it: from Ianto's quirky wit, to his dedication and loyalty, to his ability to keep them organized and supplied with coffee. And his company at night, when the others had gone and they spent hours exploring one another, satisfying each other to the brink of exhaustion. He needed that connection more than anything, to stay grounded in this time. "I'll miss you," he whispered.

Ianto stared at him. "I'm sorry," he said, but his voice was strong and unwavering, his mind made up.

"I know," said Jack. He leaned forward to kiss Ianto, but the Welshman pulled his head back, and Jack stopped. They gazed into one another's eyes for a long time until Ianto nodded, and Jack quickly captured Ianto's lips with his own. If he'd thought it would be a frantic kiss of farewell, he was wrong. Instead, it was a gentle kiss, though still full of the passion that had sparked their physical relationship from the beginning. And it wasn't full of anger or resentment, but of sadness and even heartbreak. For a moment, Jack didn't want it to end, didn't want to let go of Ianto and watch him walk away.

Yet it was clear that Ianto was serious about leaving Torchwood, and that it was over between them. Jack could hardly blame him considering he'd felt the same despair only hours earlier. He had to let Ianto go; the man had been through enough in his short life and deserved so much more. Jack was tempted to leave with him, to try and make a normal life together, but they weren't like that. They slept together and talked a bit afterwords; they weren't partners in the romantic sense, and it was obvious Ianto was not looking for any sort of relationship with Jack. Yet as soon as the thought occurred to him, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He'd told Captain Harkness there had been no one, and that had been the truth. But there could have been someone. It could have been Ianto. They could have been more than casual lovers, Jack was sure of it, but that chance was gone now, and he realized only now what he was losing. With a sad sigh, Jack stepped away from the kiss, determined to make a clean break of it.

"Take the day off tomorrow," he said. "Clear your head, think about things, make sure this is what you want."

"I don't need time to think about it," Ianto replied. "I'm not going to change my mind."

"You don't know that," Jack said, hoping that with some time and distance, maybe Ianto would decide to stay. "I want you to be sure this is what you want, and that I'm doing the right thing."

"You'd really let me go?" Ianto asked. "No Retcon, nothing?"

He brushed his fingers across Ianto's jaw. "I'd do anything for you," he said, realizing how true it was.

"Then you're doing the right thing," Ianto replied. "I'm sorry it came to this."

"Me too," said Jack, his voice cracking.

Ianto cleared his throat and stepped away. "Good night, Jack."

Jack nodded and turned to leave, pausing at the door because he wanted so badly to turn back, take Ianto in his arms, and never let go. Ianto was watching him as well, but made no move reach out and didn't tell him to stop. Jack walked out of the flat, shutting the door behind him on yet another part of his life that was ending too soon. He already regretted it.

* * *

Author's Note:

Working through several things here, some of the loose ends we didn't see on screen, with more to come. Maybe it happened this way, maybe not, but I hope you enjoyed their conversation. Another short Ianto chapter next. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Ianto couldn't sleep.

He was really doing it, finally leaving Torchwood after all the pain and heartbreak it had brought him. In some ways, he was dreading going in and actually ending it. He didn't pretend to think that Owen would be sorry to see him go, or even Gwen. He'd just shot Owen, and had only known Gwen for about six months. Still, he didn't feel like addressing their questions, and he knew it would be hard to see Toshiko and say goodbye. And he would miss Myfanvy.

Then there was Jack. Ianto had already made clear his intentions, about both his job and their affair, but that didn't make it any easier. He might never admit it, but he would miss Jack. He'd grown to enjoy their time together, from long nights shagging, to late dinners at the Hub, to simple chats over coffee in the morning. He didn't see it as a relationship and didn't think it would have worked out between them long term, but he'd miss whatever it was nonetheless. Jack was a remarkable presence in anyone's life, and Ianto knew his life would be less exciting, less colorful, without him, great sex aside.

At the same time, he could work on getting his self-respect back. Owen's comments had cut deeply. Sure, Ianto'd had his share of flings over the years, including a particularly disastrous one in London. He understood casual, though he'd not always managed it well; he tended to fall for people, quickly and completely. Jack _was_ still casual, nothing more, but hearing it from someone else's mouth in such a derogatory way had spelled it out for him. It wasn't casual like it was between most coworkers; Ianto was an employee, quite low on the totem pole even if he did know more about Torchwood than anyone, sleeping with a charming and gregarious boss who had a reputation for shagging anyone and anything. It had been amazing, and there were even times when Ianto thought maybe it could have grown into more, but now…now Ianto felt cheap and shallow. He wasn't an office boy sleeping his way to the top; he was a better person than that.

Or he should be. The reality was that he wasn't, not at all; he'd flirted his way into Torchwood Three, and kept Jack's eye off Lisa by continuing the game. He hated that part of himself and wanted to be a better person, only he couldn't do that at Torchwood. It took a person and warped them, forced them to live with secrets in the shadows, to walk in fear and suspicion, quick to anger and violence. He'd shot his doctor, for god's sake. What kind of job did that to a person? Only Torchwood, which was why he was leaving, before he was forced to shoot Tosh, or Gwen, or god forbid, Jack.

With a sigh, Ianto rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock; it was nearing the time he normally woke up, even though he didn't have to go in to the Hub since Jack had given him the day off to think things through. A part of him wished he wasn't alone, that he'd had one last night with Jack; the few times he'd actually woken up with Jack had been nice, from morning sex to showering together to sharing coffee over breakfast. But it was over, and he was alone, and he couldn't sleep.

He laid in bed and thought about how he would tell the others. He could placate the team with sweets and caffeine as he told them he was quitting, naively hoping it might soften their response. Maybe he should write out directions for the coffee maker, make a list of all the good coffee shops in the area. Or maybe he didn't need to; maybe they simply wouldn't care after all he'd done, and everything would go back to the way it had been before he'd arrived after the disaster of Canary Wharf.

No, Jack had seemed genuinely surprised and even upset, but perhaps that was because he'd come over thinking about leaving Torchwood himself. Ianto wondered why the trip to 1941 had affected Jack so much. It must have been more than simply meeting—and obviously kissing—the man whose named he shared. Which only brought up more questions, such as why did they have the same name? There were no coincidences in Torchwood as far as Ianto was concerned. Jack had some sort of connection to the pilot who died in 1941, and not physically. Ianto wished he knew more, but then again, Jack kept his secrets close, and it wasn't as if he'd ever share them with Ianto.

Which hadn't bothered him before, because he had his secrets as well. If Jack shared his, Ianto would have to share his own, and besides, their relationship wasn't anything like that. They shagged each other senseless around the Hub, occasionally taking it back to Ianto's flat. It was probably why Ianto was awake, because he was used to great sex before falling asleep. He thought about having it off with himself, but decided he'd only feel worse.

So instead he contemplated what to do with his life once he turned in his badge. What did he want to do, where did he want to go? He wasn't even sure if he wanted to remain in Cardiff, until he thought about his mum, and decided he needed to stay fairly close. He didn't want to go back to Newport, and London was out of the question. He'd love to move far up north one day, but it was too far, not when his mum needed him. Merthyr Tydfil? That might work, only it was awfully close to the Becons, and Ianto didn't want to live anywhere that might give him flashbacks. Yet another reason to avoid London and leave Cardiff.

Eventually he dozed off again, contemplating a flat somewhere near the sea, doing something he loved (because he didn't love time travel and aliens, did he?), even getting married and starting a family. He slept well past the time when he'd usually be at the Hub making a second round of coffee, and woke to a frantic text from Tosh asking if he was all right. He assured her that he was fine and would see her the next day.

He spent the day thinking about things to do but actually doing very few of them. His mind was too busy, his body too tired. He started some laundry, but left it in the dryer; he did some shopping, but forgot half of what he needed; he cleaned up the flat, but kept getting lost in whatever book or movie or cd he put away. Before he knew it, it was dinner, and even though he'd picked up chicken and pasta at the store, he had no interest in preparing it, cooking it, and then cleaning up after it, so he headed to the pub he'd found after the disaster at the Ferret.

Several hours later, Ianto felt pleasantly relaxed as he tumbled into bed. He wasn't as nervous anymore, but looking forward to being able to have his life back, to spend a day doing nothing without feeling guilty about it. Maybe he'd travel more, or spend more time with his family. Maybe he would simply take the time to read a book. Whatever he did, it would be blissfully normal: no more chasing Weevils, no more shooting coworkers. He felt like he'd just fallen into a pleasant, dreamless sleep when his mobile went off.

It was well past three in the morning, but seeing that it was Jack, he answered with a frown, wondering why Jack was calling in the middle of the night. "Yes, sir?"

"Have you seen the news?" Jack asked without greeting. He sounded tense and tired. Ianto shook his head as he sat up, immediately awake.

"It's the middle of the night. I was actually getting a decent night's sleep for once."

"Get dressed," Jack said. "I've been fielding calls from every set of initials you can imagine and could use some help."

"I'll be there in thirty minutes, sir," Ianto replied automatically, before remembering that he was supposed to turn in his badge that day. Apparently Jack remembered too.

"We really need you on this," he said, his voice softer. "I know what we talked about yesterday, but I can't let you go right now. Not if what I think is happening is really happening."

"I understand," said Ianto, hiding his disappointment. Then again, in some ways, it was his fault. He'd failed to stop Owen from opening the Rift, and if something was going wrong now because of it, perhaps Ianto needed to make it right before he left. Maybe he could leave with a clearer conscience then. He set aside his discomfort and regret. "Whatever you need, Jack."

"Thank you." Jack paused and swore under his breath. "Make it twenty minutes, the Beatles just appeared in Liverpool." And he hung up. Ianto stared at his phone, wondering if Jack meant that literally or figuratively; either way, it couldn't be good. He showered and dressed as quickly as he could before leaving for the Hub, determined to do whatever Jack needed him to do one last time.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Jack turned away as Owen left the Hub, slightly stunned by his own response. Yes, he was angry at the doctor, but to fire him? He ran a hand through his hair, trying to pull himself together. He'd felt anxious and unsettled ever since he'd returned from the dance hall, and it was starting to affect his job. He'd been snapping at everyone since the Rift had started splintering, especially Ianto, yet he couldn't help it. Something was going on, something he should be able to see and had to stop, and yet he couldn't. All he could think about was 1941 and Jack Harkness, about Ianto leaving Torchwood, and now the Rift. He took a deep breath to settle himself.

Gwen once again made no attempt to hide her anger with Jack, just as she had in the conference room, but he could feel Ianto's silent disapproval and disappointment. It had been hard working with the Welshman all day, knowing that he was planning to leave Torchwood. Now that Owen was gone, how could Jack let Ianto go? They were a man down and dealing with something they'd never faced before; they needed Ianto more than ever.

"Ianto, with me," he snapped, turning toward his office, immediately regretting his harsh tone. He held up his hand when Gwen began to protest. "Not now, Gwen. We have more important things to worry about." He walked right past her, ignoring her wind-up. Ianto followed close behind, silent as they entered the office. Jack shut the door and turned toward him, unable to tell if the Welshman was angry with him from the stoic look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it. Ianto's shoulders relaxed. "I didn't mean to snap out there. I know that should be you leaving the Hub. I know that's what you want, but I can't do that with Owen gone."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You don't really intend to fire him, do you? He made a mistake, Jack. He was trying to save you and Tosh. You've forgiven us all for worse."

"He was trying to get his girlfriend back," Jack pointed out. "And he knew better. You told him, you tried to stop him, and he did it anyway, without knowing what he was doing. Now we have Roman soldiers and plagues and who knows what else falling through the cracks _he_ caused. It's over."

"Owen or the world?" Ianto asked.

"Both."

The Welshman frowned. "I can't stay," he said. "I told you last night, I'm resigning Torchwood."

"We're in the middle of a crisis, Ianto!" Jack exclaimed. "I need you to help us figure this out." He was desperate enough to beg if he had to. Ianto may not have thought much about his abilities or his place on the team, but Jack knew they needed him.

Ianto nodded his acknowledgement, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like they might still have a chance to fix whatever was happening. "Thank you," he said. "Now, what've we got?"

Ianto seemed to hesitate before speaking. "You met Bilis Manger in 1941, and Gwen met him at the dance hall in our time. So we know he was involved in sending you back. And now Gwen said she saw him at the police station."

Jack nodded, not sure where Ianto was going. "We need to find him. He's behind all of this."

"But how is he involved? And why?"

"When we find him, I'll ask him," Jack replied, grinning like a shark and thinking about his meeting with Bilis Manger. "Nicely."

Ianto waved away the posturing. "No, something bigger is going on. We're missing something. If Manger was in 1941, he must have known you and Tosh would be taken there. He set it up." Ianto took a breath, as if reluctant to continue. "Which means it probably wasn't a coincidence that you ended up in the very dance hall where your namesake was celebrating the night before his death."

Jack frowned. "You mean, he planned that? But why?" He had written it off as one of those ridiculous coincidences that happened sometimes when it comes to time travel, but now that he thought about…in his own office, in his own time, away from the glitz and glamour…those types of coincidences weren't usually coincidences at all.

"I don't know," said Ianto, sounding frustrated. "Jack…is there a reason you have the same name as a dead World War II pilot?"

Jack stared at him, then abruptly retreated behind his desk and sat down, bowing his head. This was not a conversation he wanted to have then. They needed to find Manger, understand why this was happening and what he had to do with then, and figure out how to stop it. Jack's past wasn't relevant…was it?

"Don't shut me out, Jack," Ianto said. "I know you have your secrets, and I know you don't want to share them with me, but if it helps us stop this then you—"

Jack held up a hand. "My name is not Jack Harkness. Or it wasn't, a long time ago. I took it, to blend in, the first time I was in 1941."

"The first time?" Ianto asked, staring at him. He looked both stunned and confused, even though Jack was fairly certain Ianto had caught on to some of Jack's secrets and had his suspicions about others. Maybe time travel hadn't been one of them. He sat down in the chair in front of Jack's desk. "You've been to 1941 before?"

"Three times now," Jack laughed bitterly. "Why do you think I like the coat so much?"

"Because you're from 1941?" Ianto suggested. Jack shook his head and leaned forward.

"No, I'm actually from the future," he said, wondering if Ianto remembered an off-hand comment he'd once made, months ago.

The Welshman nodded slowly. "The 51st century," he said. "You said you're from the 51st century. But then how did you end up in 1941 three times?"

Jack touched the side of his nose. "I was a time traveler, once upon a time. The first time I was in 1941, I needed a name, a soldier's name. Jack Harkness had died in the war, so I took his name. It stuck."

"It's a good name," Ianto murmured, then met his eyes. "What's your real name?"

"That's the thing," said Jack, leaning back with a sad shrug. "I've been Jack Harkness for so long now I think of it as my name. Until I met the real Jack Harkness and saw he was a much better man than I'll ever be."

Ianto frowned; he was clearly not interested in dealing with Jack's crisis of self-confidence at that moment. "You said you took his name the first time you were in 1941. What happened the second time?"

Jack studied him carefully, weighing how much to tell him. "The second time I went to war myself."

Ianto seemed frustrated by Jack's short answers, answers that probably made little sense, and he clearly didn't feel like pushing him to give more while Jack held back. He stood up, his face a shuttered mask, his tone nothing but professional. "Never mind, sir," he said, standing up. "I don't have time to wait for you to explain something you'd rather not explain. Bilis Manger sent you back there for a reason, so I'm going to start tracking him down, see if there's been any sign of him."

He turned to leave, but Jack came around his desk and caught him by the arm, stopping him. "Wait," he said. "Don't go, not like this."

"Not like what?" Ianto asked, shaking his arm free. "Frustrated? Disappointed? We've been sleeping together for months and you only now tell me you're a time traveler from another century?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You never suspected anything?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Of course I did, sir." The formal address stung, but Ianto kept going. "We've all suspected things. You know too much, for one, and you're scattered across the archives like a bad penny. At first, I thought Jack Harkness was a secret codename, passed down from operative to operative. Until I started finding pictures, and they all looked the same." He shook his head. "I thought maybe it was the Rift, bouncing you around. Or that Torchwood had done something to you, and you were exceptionally long lived. But traveling through time…how?"

"It doesn't matter, because I can't do it anymore," Jack replied, his voice filled with sadness and longing as he thought about his past. "I was stranded here, a long time ago. I've been waiting for someone to come back and find me ever since."

Ianto took a step back with a slightly wild-eyed look. "Stranded here? How long?"

"Does it matter?" Jack asked, letting the bitterness show.

"How long, Jack?" Ianto demanded. Jack crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his head.

"Over a hundred and thirty years," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. When Ianto didn't respond, he looked up to find the other man watching him with an expression Jack couldn't name—sympathy, fear, disgust? Maybe all three. "So you were right, in a way. I am exceptionally long lived."

"You're…how…you…" Ianto took a breath. "You meant what you said. You actually fought in the war. Because you lived through it, you lived through the entire 20th century."

"I did, and it was a hell of time." Jack tried to joke, but it fell flat. He sighed. "The first time I was here, in 1941, I took the name Jack Harkness and met another time traveler—two of them, actually. They took me with them, and we traveled together, anywhere and anytime you could think of. And it was amazing…but then something happened, and they left me behind, so I came here to try and find them. Only I ended up in the wrong century with no way back, and I've been waiting for them to come back ever since. So the second time I was in 1941, I signed up for the RAF and went to war." He went back to his desk and sat down, and to his surprise, Ianto perched himself on the side of the desk instead of sitting opposite, or leaving.

"You liked that time," he said softly. "It's why you look like you belong there."

"It was beautiful, like Tosh said," Jack replied, closing his eyes as visions of the past raced by. "Full of heroism, idealism. Everyone united against a common enemy, fighting the hardest you've seen anyone ever fight. Plus they looked good, and the music was great." He smiled and opened his eyes to find Ianto watching him curiously.

"That's why he sent you there, then," Ianto said. "He wanted you out of the way, and he sent you to 1941 hoping you'd stay even if we opened the Rift to bring you back. Or that you'd come back rattled. There's clearly something else he wants."

Jack shook his head and leaned forward. "But how did he know? And why would I stay? I have a team here. I wouldn't…" He trailed off as the truth hit him.

"You wouldn't leave us?" Ianto asked. "You said you're waiting for someone to come back, to find you. Will you leave when they do?"

Jack nodded silently, unable to lie. Ianto looked away, took a deep breath, and continued.

"He must have known your namesake was there. Maybe he wanted you to meet him, to fall for him—"

"No," Jack said, standing up. "That doesn't make sense. How did he know about my name, about the original Jack Harkness, about 1941? And how did he know I would be the one looking into the call at the dance hall? It could have been anyone!"

Ianto shook his head and chewed on his thumb, obviously frustrated by not having answers. "I think he knows more about us than we know about him. He's manipulated us every step of the way to get what he wants…" He trailed off, shook his head again, and stood up to pace. "I just don't know what he wants from us."

"It has something to do with the Rift," Jack said, watching him and wishing once again that Ianto hadn't made up his mind to leave Torchwood. How could Ianto not see how important he was, how good he was? "Which is why we have to guard it carefully and make sure it doesn't open again."

Ianto's head flashed up. "But what if that's the answer? What if he's trying to stop us from opening the Rift, but opening it is what we need to do?"

"No," Jack said, shaking his head and coming around the desk. "It's more likely he wants us to open it, when leaving it alone is what we need to do."

"Then how do we stop what's happening out there?" Ianto demanded.

"I don't know," Jack said, trying not to get frustrated. "But we can't open the Rift. Owen opened it once and look what happened. Chaos. Time is splintering, and it's our fault."

"What if more people die?" Ianto asked.

"Opening it again won't bring them back," Jack replied. He set aside the sliver of doubt he felt, because he knew somehow knew, deep down, that opening the Rift would create even more havoc.

"How can you know that?" Ianto murmured.

"How can you doubt me?" Jack asked, stung by Ianto's sudden lack of faith. The question got him a sad smile in return.

"How can I doubt you? Because you keep secrets, Jack. Even from people you can trust. Or is that why you didn't tell us who you really were? Because you don't trust us? Don't trust me?"

"I do trust you!" Jack exclaimed. "I trust you more than anyone."

"Not enough to tell me you're a time traveler from the future who's over a century old," Ianto said, shaking his head sadly before heading to the door. "At least I know the truth now. I should go."

Jack panicked. "You're leaving now?" he asked. "We have to stop Manger—find him, figure out what he wants and make sure he doesn't get it!"

"I know," said Ianto. "I meant I should go look for Manger, see what we can find out about him. I had a lead on a shop, maybe he's there."

"Right," Jack replied with a relieved breath. "Thank you."

"I'm not doing it for you," Ianto said, not looking at Jack's face. "I don't want more people to get hurt, or to die. And when we're done saving the world, I'm still handing in my badge."

Jack let his eyes slip closed. "I wish you'd reconsider," he said quietly. When he opened his eyes, Ianto was watching him, shook his head.

"I can't," he said. "Not anymore." He paused. "Do the others know? About you?"

"I told Tosh some when we were trapped in 1941," Jack replied. "I'd appreciate it if you'd keep things to yourself."

"I've been keeping secrets since I started here," Ianto said with a shrug. "You'll have to tell them eventually. Before you leave." He turned to leave, stopped, then turned back with a raw, open look on his face. "Will you come back?" he whispered.

Jack felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. "I don't know," he said. "I only know I have to go. I have to find answers. Something happened to me, when they left me behind, and I've been waiting for a long time to understand."

"Right." Ianto swallowed thickly. "Well, until then, back to work for both of us. I'll start looking for Bilis Manger right away, sir."

"Ianto?" Jack called as Ianto opened the door to leave. "I will miss you," he said. "No matter where I am."

"Or when?" Ianto suggested with a crooked smile.

"Or when."

"Torchwood will miss you too, sir," Ianto replied. Jack stepped forward, stopped himself from reaching out to the other man.

"And you?"

"I'll miss you too, Jack," he said softly. They gazed at one another for a long moment, until Ianto finally turned and went back to the Hub without another word. He went to his station, scrubbed his face a few times, then started typing away on his keyboard, his jaw set and determined.

Jack was tempted to turn and punch the wall. It wasn't fair, that it had come to this. He'd lost Owen, and Ianto; who next? And it was all Bilis Manger's fault. As he thought about Ianto's words, Jack realized the Welshman was probably right about Manger manipulating him with the trip to 1941 and the meeting with Jack Harkness. It didn't lessen the dull heartache, but it did make sense. Like Ianto, however, he still didn't understand the motivation. Did Manger want them to open the Rift, or keep it closed?

With a frustrated sigh, Jack sat down to think. He would figure this out. They would save the world, and Ianto would leave Torchwood. And when he did, Jack knew it was only a matter of time before he did as well.

* * *

Author's Note:

Extra day or two for the next chapter, but maybe I'll update something else! I hope this is meshing with the episode and helps explain some of the unexplained. Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

6.

Ianto watched as Jack moved toward his office, unsure what to do, what to think. Jack still looked tired, pale, uncertain. He stopped to check on Tosh again, touched Owen on his shoulder, exchanged words with Gwen. Ianto tried not to stare, but it was hard not to after what had happened over the last three days. Jack, shot dead by his own team, then gasping back to life; Jack, sacrificing himself to save them from Abaddon, only to walk out of the morgue three days later.

"I'm sorry," he'd whispered to Ianto as he'd pulled him into a warm embrace, then kissed him right there, in the Hub, in front of the team. Ianto still wasn't sure how he felt about that, for all sorts of reasons. They'd kept it from the others, for one, because Ianto didn't want them knowing; Owen's comments alone would have been unbearable, and after her bedside vigil, it was likely Gwen would have something to say as well. And besides that, Ianto had ended their strange affair days ago. They'd shared their last kiss back at Ianto's flat, and though it had been hard, Ianto knew it had been the right thing to do.

It was still the right thing to do. Jack had kept so much from him, Ianto felt like he'd never really known the man. He'd been sleeping with Jack for months, yet he had never thought to mention he was from the future, or that he couldn't die. But Gwen had known, and Ianto couldn't help but resent that. He'd been there longer than Gwen, and Tosh and Owen even longer than him. Why had Jack kept so much from them and not her?

In spite of the vastness of the main part of the Hub, Ianto suddenly felt trapped. Jack had retreated to his office, and Gwen had naturally followed, as if she were the only one who cared. Ianto imagined that Tosh and especially Owen were wondering what was going on between him and Jack after that kiss, but he didn't want to talk about it, to deal with it. With anything. This was why he was leaving Torchwood: it was too much.

He turned and without a word blindly grabbed a few files from his desk, then walked briskly down to the archives, where he could be alone with his thoughts. Now more than ever he needed to get out, and with Owen back on the team, Ianto could leave Torchwood without feeling guilty. He decided to start putting together a file about his duties, on what he'd accomplished in the archives and the tourism office, on his contacts in Cardiff, and maybe even detailed directions for the coffee machine. Creating order from the current chaos would quiet his mind, but he had barely started his notes when he heard someone come in behind him.

"I am sorry," said Jack, his voice devoid of its usual depth and spirit. He sounded genuinely regretful and sad, as well as tired and defeated. Ianto stiffened at first, then forced himself to lower his shoulders and turn around.

"What for?" he asked, keeping his own voice carefully neutral. "For saving the world from an ancient evil demon?"

"For not telling you everything," Jack replied, hands tucked into his pockets as he moved further into the room. "About me."

Ianto leaned against the desk, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at the floor. "You mean that you couldn't die? Bit of a shocker, that one, although it certainly explains why you're exceptionally long lived." He raised air quotes around the last few words. When Jack did not react, Ianto sighed. "That's it, then? You really can't die? Ever?"

"I don't know," Jack replied, once again sounding defeated. It was unusual for him to show such vulnerability, and Ianto wondered what it meant. Was he still recovering, both physically and emotionally? Or was he honestly regretful that he'd never shared his biggest secret? "I haven't yet, and it's well past my time."

Ianto studied him, decided he may as well as ask the questions, whether he got an answer or not. "Is that what happened, that you need to find the answers—why you can't die? You said you'd leave one day, to find out what happened to you."

Jack nodded. He glanced around and found a chair, slumped into it, legs spread out in front of him. "Sorry," he apologized. "But I've never been dead for three days before. I'm still tired."

"I can imagine," Ianto murmured, trying not to hold back a slightly hysterical laugh. Of course he'd not been dead for three days before, who had? Unless they too had fought an ancient demon from the Rift.

"Yes, that's what I need to know," Jack said, trying to catch Ianto's eye. "I died once, years and years ago. And then I woke up, all alone. My friends, the ones I was traveling and fighting with, had left me. They probably thought I was dead, but I wasn't. I was surrounded by death, but not dead. Never dead." He trailed off, his eyes distant, then shook himself. "I don't know what happened, and I don't know why, and I don't know if I'll always be like this, but I have to find out."

"Which is why you're waiting for them, the people who left you behind," Ianto guessed. "Why here, in Cardiff? Why Torchwood?"

Jack laughed bitterly. "I came to Cardiff because of the Rift, hoping I'd find them nearby. But I landed in 1869, long before Torchwood. I suppose you might say I was sort of conscripted into it. I've come and gone over the years, but I try to stay near the Rift, and Torchwood seemed as good a place as any to work."

"You mean, to wait for them. You just saved the world, but you'll go when you find them."

"I have to," Jack whispered, and Ianto nodded.

"I know," he said, and saw immediately how Jack relaxed with having Ianto's acceptance. "And I understand. You should tell the others, though. So they know, when the time comes."

Jack stood and shook his head. "No, it's enough that you know, and I feel awful that you do, because—"

"Because now I can be prepared when you leave? I can understand why, when you do?" Ianto interrupted. "Jack, they deserve the same consideration! You didn't tell us you couldn't die, don't keep more secrets."

"No," said Jack shaking his head. "I don't want this hanging over everything I do. It could be years!"

"And I won't be here to explain it to them!" Ianto snapped. "Who's going to tell them all the operating codes, the financial account numbers, how to get into the Secure Archives? About Flat Holm?"

Jack started, his mouth falling open. "How do you—"

Ianto rolled his eyes and waved him off. "I know more than you think I do, although it's much less than I thought. You need to prepare them, Jack. You can't run off and hope they figure things out!"

Jack stared at him, turned and fell into the chair again, letting his elbows rest on his knees and his head fall. "I know," he whispered. "But I don't know how."

Ianto sighed and pulled up his desk chair, laid his hand on Jack's knee. "At least say goodbye when you go, or leave a note. And I'd suggest preparing a file, so everyone knows what they need to in order to keep Torchwood running. You can't just abandon everything you've done here, all the good. You know that."

Jack glanced at his hand, then met his eyes. "I think if you stayed, I'd come back."

Ianto pulled his hand away and sat back with a sharp bark. "Come back to Cardiff? After finding your answers, maybe returning to your own time? It must be so hard, living in the past when you know the future. Why would you come back?"

Jack seemed to think about it. "This is my home now," he finally replied. "I've lived here longer than anywhere. I care about this planet, these people, my team."

"Jack, we—" Ianto started, and this time Jack interrupted him.

"We were being manipulated," Jack said. "All of us. You were right—from the very beginning, Bilis Manger was using us. He wanted me out of the way to open the Rift, and when it didn't work, he turned you all against me so that you'd open it again on your own."

Now it was Ianto's turn to drop his head and avoid Jack's gaze. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have figured it out. I should have stopped them." But he'd been as taken in as all the others.

Jack waited until Ianto glanced up. "What did you see?" he asked. "Gwen said everyone had a vision. What did you see?"

Ianto swallowed. "I saw Lisa," he admitted. "Down in the cells, by the Weevils."

"Of course," Jack murmured.

"She said more people would die if we didn't open the Rift," Ianto told him. "She didn't say the dead would come back, she said more people would die. I don't know why I believed it, except that people were falling through time, so why not her? I didn't want more people to die," he repeated.

"I believe you," Jack replied. "Manger appealed to your sense of rightness, your desire to save others. When Rhys Williams died, you saw that she was right, that more people would die. So you acted according to what you believed, that opening the Rift would not only save Rhys, but save others as well."

"I should have known better," Ianto murmured, still feeling the guilt of that moment, when Jack had looked at him, told him to stop the others, and Ianto had said no. It made his gut twist thinking about it.

"I should have seen what was happening when all four of you turned on me," Jack said. "Looking back, it didn't make sense, but I was so angry! Hell, I should have seen it in 1941. You were right, that he wanted me there in that time on that day. He needed me out of the way. I fell for it—for everything. We all did." He took Ianto's hand again. "But it's over. We stopped him."

"Until the next time traveling megalomaniac shows up to destroy the world." Ianto tried for humor, but in their line of work, it was far too possible.

"You could stay, help me save the world a few more times," Jack suggested, also aiming for lightness. Ianto shook his head.

"I can't. It's over, Jack. I can't do this anymore. I'm still leaving Torchwood, maybe even Cardiff." He held up a hand. "I have to, before this job takes everything. And I don't want to be here when you go. I don't want to watch you leave. I couldn't bear it."

"I'm sorry," Jack said again. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen, for you to find out like this…" He sighed.

"It was the only way we were going to find out." Ianto replied. "Since you didn't tell us." He paused and gave in to his inner resentment. "How did Gwen know? She's only been here six months, and yet she knew your biggest secret."

"She saw me die the night Suzie died," Jack replied with a shrug. "And since she'd already broken the Retcon…"

"And you were already interested in having her," Ianto added, not bothering to hide his bitterness. It had been obvious from the start, Jack's interest in his newest recruit. Gwen Cooper had shown few qualifications for the job, but he'd hired her anyway. And she'd screwed up time and time again, only to be sent home with a cup of tea and a hug. They all saw it, all resented it and the way she'd treated them at the beginning, but Ianto'd had bigger issues to worry about at the time, and the distraction had served him well in caring for Lisa. Knowing now that Gwen had shared in Jack's secret from the beginning rankled even more, that she was somehow more deserving of Jack's trust. Especially after he'd started sleeping with Ianto instead.

"I'm not getting into that with you," Jack said, sounding both regretful yet annoyed. "It has nothing to do with any of this."

"Is that why you took her with you?" Ianto asked. "Because she knew?"

"She knew, and she believed," Jack said. "She's seen me die, and I knew if I took her with me, she wouldn't try to stop me from facing Abaddon. She could watch me die because she knew I would come back." He faced Ianto. "You would have tried to stop me. Or I'd like to think you would have."

Ianto thought about it. He'd watched Owen shoot Jack in the head, and minutes later Jack had risen. He'd barely staggered from Torchwood before he'd gone off to face Abaddon, clearly still weak; of course Ianto would have tried to stop him. "Yes, I would have," he said, confirming Jack's statement. "And I'm sure Tosh or Owen would have as well. You'd already died once, and even though you somehow came back, we had no idea how. You were barely able to walk."

Jack's face softened. "I didn't want you to see what might happen," he said softly. "When I faced Abaddon. I knew it would be bad."

"And you thought Gwen could handle it better?" Ianto suggested dryly. "She was a wreck, Jack. She wouldn't leave your side the entire time, even when we pointed out her dead boyfriend was now alive and waiting for her at home."

"She believed," Jack murmured.

"Because she knew about you, and we didn't," Ianto said. He raised an eyebrow. "Does she know why? Does she know you'll leave one day to find your answers?"

"Not really," Jack said. "I don't think she'd understand. She sees things as too black and white."

Ianto widened his eyes in surprise. "I'm shocked to hear you admit that about her," he said. "And even though you're right, you should still tell her. She deserves to know."

"I don't see why," Jack started. "She'll only try to stop me."

"Because you hired her, and she took the job because of you. You're the reason she's here Jack, the reason she sat in the morgue for three days. Tell her."

Jack stared mulishly at him. "I'll think about it," he said. "But right now, it's enough that you know. That you understand."

"Like I said, I won't be here to hold their hands, sir," Ianto replied, reverting to the formal to get a reaction from Jack. He picked up a folder from his desk, the one he'd started for his replacement. "But I will tell them I'm leaving, and I'm preparing a file so that someone else can manage my duties without having to guess at them."

Jack's shoulders sagged. "You're serious. And you think I should do the same."

"I am, and I do." Ianto set it down and tucked his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to Jack. "I really do understand, Jack. You have to leave. So do I. But I don't want Torchwood to fall apart. It's important, and someone needs to keep on doing what we do." He exchanged a small smile with Jack before continuing. "So I'll make sure they know how to file reports and where to get decent coffee, and you make sure they can do the rest."

Jack stepped closer, until he was close enough to put his arms around Ianto's waist, standing flush against him so that Ianto could feel the heat from his body, inhale his unique scent. It was, as always, both intoxicating and comforting, and though Ianto knew he should be resisting, he didn't want to, not when it might be the last time.

"You're right," Jack said. " I don't know what we'll do without you."

"Order your own pizza, for one," Ianto replied lightly, but Jack sighed sadly.

"No, you're so much more. To Torchwood, and to me." He leaned forward and kissed Ianto, gently at first, until Ianto gave in to the passion and kissed him back. He was leaving, and one day Jack would leave, and Ianto would likely never kiss him again. So he returned the kiss, let his hands roam across Jack's shoulders one last time, ran his fingers through Jack's hair one last time. Jack's arms held him tight, and they kissed until they were breathless and on the point of taking it too far, right there in the archives, where anyone could walk in on them. For a moment, Ianto didn't care.

But Jack was leaving one day. Even if Ianto stayed, Jack might leave him before he left the planet, but either way, it would be over. And Ianto suspected that if they continued their fling, the possibility of him developing feelings for Jack only increased, as did the probability of him getting hurt when Jack left.

Ianto wasn't going through that again. He needed a life away from Torchwood, a normal life—marriage, kids, a house, a steady job with decent hours that didn't threaten his life or sanity. He'd miss Jack, and Tosh, and even his pet dinosaur, but he needed to reclaim his sense of dignity, of self-esteem and personal integrity, and he couldn't do that while sweeping the floors, filing the paperwork, and sleeping with his boss.

Stepping back, Ianto untangled himself from Jack's embrace. They exchanged one last look, a nod, a sad smile, and then it was over. Jack stepped away, and Ianto moved to straighten his jacket and tie.

"You going to keep hiding down here?" Jack asked, the forced lightness in his tone obvious. "Or maybe join us upstairs?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "You mean, am I coming up to make coffee anytime soon?"

"That too," Jack laughed. "I was out of it for a while and could definitely go for a cup."

"Unfortunately, the coffee machine was broken when the Rift opening shook up the Hub." Ianto laughed out loud at the look of shock on Jack's face, as if the coffee machine was the worst of the destruction. "We've been sourcing it in, if you'd like me to do a coffee run."

"That would be amazing," Jack replied. "I'll catch up on what I missed while you're gone."

"You mean, actually read the reports I left on your desk?" Ianto asked in pretend shock, and earned a smile from Jack.

"Absolutely," Jack said. "I always do. Great bedtime reading."

Ianto shook his head with fond amusement. "I'll be up in a few minutes, sir," he said. "Let me clean up what I was working on here."

Jack turned to leave, but glanced back before he left. "Ianto? Thank you," he said softly. "For everything."

"You're welcome," Ianto said. "And…thank you. For…well, for the same."

Jack nodded. "I meant what I said in my office the other day. I _will_ miss you."

Ianto didn't know how to respond, and before he could, Jack tipped his head and left the room. Ianto sank into a chair and blew out a long breath. It was done. Jack was alive, the world was saved, and Ianto would soon leave it all behind. He was relieved and terrified at the same time.

But he wasn't done yet. He needed to finish putting everything in order first, starting with coffee for the team. Maybe Tosh would want to join him for a quick walk down the Quay. Hopefully Gwen or Owen wouldn't tag along and badger him. And hopefully the Rift wouldn't bring any more unexpected visitors to their doorstep.

Shutting off the lights, Ianto left the archives, ready to leave it behind and start over.

* * *

Author's Note:

I hope that helped clear up some other loose ends in _End of Days_. There will be a short epilogue sometime later this week. Thank you for reading!


	7. Epilogue I

Epilogue 1

Jack sat at his desk, wearing his greatcoat simply because he could. It was warm and comfortable and grounded him after the events of the last several days. He was both physically and emotionally exhausted, and retreating into the coat and all that it represented to him reminded him that he was alive. That after being shot and betrayed and literally having the life sucked out of him, he was alive and back where he belonged.

The thought made him sit up straighter and sigh. Did he really belong there? He'd always considered his time at Torchwood as little more than something he did to remain in Cardiff, near the Rift, waiting for the Doctor. For decades he'd come and gone, until the mantle of leadership had fallen to him by default, when his curse had left him the only one alive after Alex Hopkins had killed the rest of his team and then himself. Jack had reluctantly taken over, vowing to make Torchwood better, to make it something the Doctor would be proud of when he finally came back.

Only Jack wasn't doing a very good job, was he? So much had gone wrong in the last year, from Suzie's death to Ianto's secret, to losing innocents, facing cannibals, and watching Tosh and Owen stumble yet again. He was trying so hard, and yet he felt like he was failing every time. Even Gwen, the one person he'd thought would never betray him because he'd sensed her interest and awe from the day he hired her; even Gwen had turned on him. Yes, she'd sat by his side in the morgue, but that was after she'd betrayed him behind to open the Rift. To save Rhys.

They'd all betrayed him, the entire team. Yes, they'd been manipulated by visions, just as he'd been manipulated by his time in 1941, but that didn't discount the fact that they had lost faith and turned on him. Killed him. Perhaps he didn't belong there, didn't deserve their loyalty; he felt like he was only playacting at being a leader, waiting for the Doctor to arrive and take him back to the stars.

He meant what he'd said to Ianto, though. He would miss the Welshman. He would miss them all, even Cardiff and Wales. In spite of all the pain and heartbreak, he felt like he'd finally found something he'd been missing for so long in this team, these people: companionship, friendship, even a feeling of family. Yes, they'd shot him, but they'd been tricked into it, forced into seeing and believing things that weren't really there, were never going to be true. He also meant what he'd said to Owen: he'd forgiven him, had forgiven all of them.

But did he still belong with them? He'd told Ianto he'd leave when the Doctor returned, but was he still looking for answers, or running away from his failures? Or both? All he knew was that he had to go, no matter how attached he was to this time and place now. It was why he accepted Ianto's need to leave Torchwood. The Welshman might be running away from all the heartbreak he'd experienced at Torchwood, but he too was looking for something—a normal life that wouldn't destroy him even more. Jack couldn't fault Ianto for leaving because he knew what Torchwood did to a person; he had experienced it for over a century, and he didn't want to see Ianto broken any more than he already was.

He would miss Ianto, though. A lot more than he thought, for as casual as they'd been. It was one thing to watch Ianto walk away from Torchwood, knowing he was safe and happy; it was another to leave the planet behind and never see the Welshman again.

With a sigh, Jack rubbed his face. He glanced out of his office, wondering when the others would be back. Gwen had already been in his office to check on him too many times, and he desperately needed coffee if she was going to keep coming in to make sure he was still alive. Which she did again when she saw him glance up from the files he was reading over from his time in the morgue.

As usual, she badgered him for answers he was not prepared to give her. He thought about what Ianto had said, about telling her that one day he would leave with the Doctor, but he was too tired to get into an argument with her. And she would argue, he had little doubt. Ianto had claimed to understand, and for the most part, Jack believed him. Ianto might have been disappointed, but he understood because he knew about Jack's past now, and because he too felt the need to leave, to find more, to move on. But Gwen…Gwen saw absolutes. She might say she understood why Jack needed answers from the Doctor, but she would not accept him leaving Torchwood forever to do so. She believed in it too much now. She would feel betrayed and abandoned, and perhaps rightfully so, but Jack didn't need that kind of pressure. For once in his long life, he needed to do the right thing for _him_ , not for someone else, not for the planet. Because he was the one cursed to an undying life, and he needed to know why.

Standing up, Jack left his office, ignoring Gwen's continued questions and huff of frustration behind him. He needed some space. "Where are they with those coffees?" he called out into the Hub. No one answered … but then he noticed the hand nearby, the hand of the Doctor from Torchwood One. He'd fashioned a way for it to show him when the Doctor was near, and it was working. The hand was glowing, the water bubbling—and then he heard it.

The sound of the TARDIS.

It was glorious.

A million things raced through his mind. He had to go, before the Doctor left. The right version had finally arrived, likely to refuel on the Rift right above them. It didn't take long, and then the Doctor would leave again, and who knew how long Jack would have to wait for that same incarnation. He had to go, and he had to leave immediately.

But Ianto was out with the others, and even though he'd talked with him earlier, Jack wanted to say goodbye. It was the worst possible timing, that he was leaving so abruptly. He wanted to make sure the Welshman knew why Jack was going so soon, knew that he mattered, and knew he was still free to leave Torchwood behind. To be honest, Jack wanted one last kiss, because he didn't know if he'd return.

No, he'd come back. He would, someday. The TARDIS was a time machine, after all. He could convince the Doctor to bring him back so he could see his team, explain his sudden disappearance. He might not stay, but he would come back. He owed it to them. And Ianto knew why he was leaving, so he could tell the others not to worry until then. Jack only wished he could say goodbye and reassure Ianto that he would be back.

But there was no time. He grabbed a rucksack and stuffed the glass capsule with the Doctor's hand inside. He glanced back at his office; Gwen was pacing back and forth on her phone, probably talking to Rhys. As she should be, given that she'd hardly seen him since Abaddon, and he was the reason she'd opened the Rift. Jack knew he should say something, at least say goodbye, but he didn't want to interrupt, and he didn't want her to stop him. Ianto was right in that Gwen was there because of him, and Jack owed her an explanation, so he smiled, tipped his head, and promised he'd come back.

Running as fast as he could through the cog door, up the stairs, and through the tourist office, Jack burst outside and started running toward the blue police box on the Plass. He shouted for the Doctor, hoping he'd see him, hear him, stop and wait, but the box started to fade, blinking out of existence as it returned to the vortex. Without even thinking, Jack threw himself at the TARDIS.

As the Plass faded around him, he told himself once more that he would return. To Cardiff, to his team, to Ianto. Someday.

* * *

Author's Note:

I apologize for the lateness of this chapter and hope that you will stick around for a second epilogue to wrap up this story. Thank you for reading!


	8. Epilogue II

Epilogue II

The Hub felt empty already.

It was different than when Jack had laid in the morgue for three days. Then, they thought they had lost him. That he'd sacrificed himself to save them and the planet. They'd sat by Jack's side, gazing at his pale face, wondering if Gwen was right, if he would wake up and come back to life.

Ianto had tried to believe, he really had. At first it had been easy; he'd known Jack was different, had even known some of Jack's history, and had seen Jack stand up after a bullet to the head. Yet as the days wore on and Jack didn't wake, it had grown harder and harder to keep the faith. Gwen's bedside vigil seemed more desperate than devoted, bordering on tragic. Ianto had wanted to sit with Jack himself and say his final goodbye, but she had always been there, watching and waiting. Now he'd never get to say anything to Jack.

She'd been right, though. Jack had come back to life, but Ianto knew this was different. Jack wasn't dead, wasn't resurrecting: he was gone. They had seen the CCTV footage from the Plass, had watched as Jack ran toward the blue police box, shouting and yelling. He'd been wearing his coat and carrying a rucksack. A quick turn of the Hub left no doubt what was in the bag: the Doctor's hand. Jack had finally left with the Doctor.

In some ways, Ianto was happy for Jack. He knew that Jack had been waiting over a century to find the Doctor, to learn why he was immortal, and Jack deserved those answers more than anyone. Ianto couldn't imagine the long decades of suffering Jack had lived through, waiting for the right Doctor to tell him why he couldn't die. It was unfathomable. Jack needed to go, to leave Earth and find his answers. In a way, Ianto understood because he too needed to leave—to leave Torchwood, maybe even Cardiff. To find the answers to his own life, to find meaning and purpose before Torchwood destroyed him.

Yet now…now he wasn't sure.

Sitting at Jack's desk, going through the papers there—including his own resignation—Ianto found himself lost in thought. Should he stay? The team would be down two men if he left, and though he didn't kid himself that they would miss him had Jack been around, losing two team members now would definitely leave them short-handed, both at the Hub and in the field. Jack had given his blessing, though. He'd told Ianto he was free to leave, even when he'd confessed his own intentions to leave one day. Only neither one of them had thought it would be _that_ day. It was so sudden, so abrupt, even Ianto was reeling, and he'd known; the others were still in shock.

He was interrupted in contemplating his resignation by a quiet knock at the door. Tosh stood there, watching him with equal parts sadness and curiosity. He sat up straighter and motioned her inside, making a show of moving some papers around, though he'd only looked at one, his own, and he didn't want anyone to see it. To his surprise, Gwen and Owen followed her inside. Tosh pulled up a chair while Owen stood in the back with his arms crossed over his chest; Gwen glanced around, looking lost, and finally perched against the wall. Ianto watched them and waited.

"Ianto," Tosh finally started, but Owen cut her off before she could begin.

"What do you know, teaboy?" he demanded. "We figure Jack must have told you something if you recognized that box on the Plass. So where is he?"

"I have no idea where he is," Ianto replied, leaning back in Jack's chair as waves of anger and frustration poured off them, all directed at him. "I recognized the box as the Doctor's ship because I worked for Torchwood One for two years, remember? The Doctor was persona non-grata, enemy number one. We captured him and that same ship during the Battle of Canary Wharf, before everything went to hell."

"Who's the Doctor?" asked Gwen. "Jack's always talking about his doctor, the right kind of doctor. What does that mean?"

Ianto sighed and stared down at his hands. He hated having to be the one to explain. "The Doctor is an alien, a time-traveler. Apparently he has the ability to regenerate, because he's been on earth dozens of times, but with at least ten different faces that we know of. He—"

"Hang on, he grows a new face?" asked Owen, sounding his most skeptical. "That's insane."

"So is Jack rising from the dead three days later," Tosh pointed out over her shoulder. "Is he like Jack then?"

Ianto shrugged. "I have no idea, but I doubt it. Jack didn't wake up with a new face after we shot him, or after Abaddon killed him. But maybe it's related."

"How?"

"Jack knew the Doctor," Ianto said. "A long time ago. According to files at Torchwood One, the Doctor frequently travels with a companion, and Jack traveled with him. Something happened, though, and Jack's been searching for the Doctor ever since."

"What happened?" asked Gwen. "How long ago?"

Ianto shook his head. "That's Jack's story, not mine."

"He told you?" she asked. She sounded surprised and hurt. Ianto felt the tiniest bit of satisfaction, that he knew something about Jack that she didn't. He wondered, though, why Jack had shared his past with him, and not with Gwen.

"Only recently," he said. "The last week has been somewhat…well, chaotic. He told me some of the story, for context." Ianto took a deep breath. "And he told me that someday he would have to leave, when he found the Doctor again."

"What?" Gwen exclaimed. Owen stood up straighter and stalked over to the desk.

"You knew he was going to run off on us?" the doctor demanded. "And you didn't say anything?"

"He only told me that this morning." Ianto scrubbed his hands over his face. "I said he needed to talk to everyone, but he didn't want it hanging over him. He didn't know if it would be today, tomorrow, or ten years from now."

"I don't understand," said Tosh, her voice soft but confused. "Why did he have to go with the Doctor? Without even saying goodbye?"

Ianto threw up his hands. "He's been waiting for the right face—incarnation, I think he called it. A version of the Doctor whom Jack had already met, as opposed to an earlier one. Timelines, I suppose." He blew out a breath. "And he had to go because the right version was here today. Jack's been waiting a long time, and he couldn't miss the chance to talk to him."

"Why?" Tosh asked quietly.

Ianto smiled sadly at her. "To find out why he can't die." Ianto glanced at Owen, knowing the doctor was curious about Jack's condition. "He always comes back, every time. He's been waiting for the Doctor to learn what happened to him, why he can't die. To find out if he can ever be fixed. He had no choice."

"Bullshit," said Owen.

"He could have said something," said Gwen. "He could have said goodbye."

Ianto gestured at the computer screens behind him. "You saw the footage, Gwen. The Doctor uses the Rift to refuel his ship. When he showed up, Jack had to run before it was too late."

"I was right here in the Hub, Ianto!" she exclaimed. "In his office. One minute he's storming out looking for you lot, and the next he's gone. I didn't even hear the alarms!"

Ianto stared at her, at the devastated look on her face, and knew it would be a hard road ahead. She felt personally betrayed and abandoned, and would not get over it quickly.

"I don't know what else to tell you," he said quietly, addressing them all. "That's all I know."

"Bullshit again," Owen said, pointing a finger at him. "You knew he would leave one day, and I think you know more. Is he coming back?"

Ianto stood up and glared at him. "I don't know. Would you?" he snapped. "After what we did? Would you come back?"

"Ianto," said Tosh, reaching out as he crossed in front of the desk to stand before Owen. He held up a hand, telling her to stop.

"We betrayed him—we shot him! Why would he come back?" He knew he was taking out his own fears on Owen, but he couldn't help it, especially because it was true. Why would Jack return to the very people who'd turned on him, when he could travel the universe with the Doctor again?

"Because he's our leader," Gwen said. "He belongs here."

"He's not even from here," said Ianto, shaking his head. "He owes us nothing, Gwen. We killed him."

"I killed him," Owen snapped. "And he fired my arse for it. So if he's gone, what the hell do I do now?"

"He forgave you," Tosh said, coming up beside Ianto. "I heard him say it, Owen. He forgave you, which means you're part of the team." She turned to Ianto. "What about you? What are you going to do now?"

"What?" asked Gwen, standing up straight from where she'd been leaning against the wall. "What does she mean? What's going on?"

Ianto took several steps back and tucked his hands into his pockets. He glanced at the floor, at the computers, into the Hub, before finally focusing on Tosh. "I resigned, like I said I would. Before this all the started, before the Rift started splintering."

"What?" Gwen exclaimed, and Owen swore. Tosh shook her head, her eyes suddenly bright with tears. Ianto caught her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "But I had to. The letter's on the desk."

"You quit?" Owen demanded. "And Jack let you?"

Ianto took a breath, surprised at how shaky he was. "Yes, he did. We talked about it the night Jack and Tosh came back from 1941. I was planning to come in and tell everyone the next day, but when the Rift started going tits up, Jack asked me to stay."

Gwen looked both shocked and angry. Owen shook his head. "I can't believe you fucking quit on us." He pointed his index finger in Ianto's face. "You're the last one I saw ever leaving this place, considering how far up Jack's arse you were."

Ianto shoved Owen's hand away hard. "Fuck you. It has nothing to do with Jack. It's about Torchwood. It kills you slowly, from the inside, and that's not how I want to live—or die. Do you think I enjoyed hiding Lisa from you lot? That I like picking up the trash and filing paperwork? That I got off on shooting you? I hate it—all of it." He threw up his hands, tapped his index finger to his temple. "Torchwood warps you, breaks you. I've given it enough, and I don't want to give it my soul."

Tosh looked away, unable to bear his rant. Owen shook his head and started pacing, while Gwen took a step forward and reached out to him. Ianto stepped back without even thinking about it.

"Ianto," she started. "Sweetheart, I know it's been a hard week, and with Jack gone it must seem even—"

Ianto glared at her. "I told you—it's nothing to do with Jack leaving," he snapped. "I resigned before this started. It's Torchwood, and what it does to a person."

She frowned. "Because you shot Owen? You were trying to stop him from opening the Rift, you weren't trying to kill him."

"I could have," Ianto replied. "And I had to shoot him because he was wrong and wouldn't listen to me."

Owen whipped around and surged forward. Gwen jumped in front of him to hold the doctor back, while Ianto felt Tosh's hand on his arm, calming him.

"I was trying to save them!" Owen shouted. "You would have left them there!"

"I would have kept looking for a solution!" Ianto returned. "Because look what happened—Jack was right! We don't know what we're doing with the Rift. We shouldn't have opened it in the first place—none of this would have happened!"

"But we did, and it's over," Gwen said, holding up a hand toward Ianto to stop him. In a way she was right, and throwing stones did no one any good. "And now we know. Everything's back to normal, and we're all okay."

She sounded like she was talking to a suspect, not a coworker. Ianto shook his head in frustration and turned away, running a hand through his hair with a bitter laugh. "And that's exactly why I'm leaving—so I don't end up thinking that it's okay we opened the Rift, or it's okay that hundreds of people died. That it's _okay_ Jack died _twice_ , and both times were our fault. It's _not_ okay, Gwen, and thinking it is means Torchwood has got to you as much as the rest of us."

She looked like he'd slapped her, wide-eyed with her mouth half open. Ianto sighed; he hated this. He didn't want to argue with them anymore, but he needed them to understand. "I don't want to fight with my coworkers anymore— to shoot them or watch them shoot others. This is not a normal working environment," he added, his voice lilting up with a slightly hysterical edge. "I want a different life, one where I keep my conscience and don't end up destroying the world."

"You're not going to destroy the world," Tosh said quietly. "You are one of the good guys who saves it."

"I'm not," Ianto replied, shaking his head. "I'm just another soul lost to Torchwood. I'm taking my soul back. I'm sorry."

"Ianto," Gwen started, but Ianto cut her off.

"I'll have everything settled for you in a day or two, including a list of the best coffee shops in the area and all my duties—"

"Bollocks!" snapped Owen, striding up to them and looking for a moment as if he were going to shove Ianto in the chest, but stopped himself. "You're not going anywhere, Ianto. We need you."

Everyone stared at him in astonishment. "You'll need to find someone else, of course, since Jack is gone as well, but—"

"No, we need _you,"_ Owen replied. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up in defiance, clearly uncomfortable. "Look, what you said about trying to stop me from opening the Rift? You were probably right. I did it for all the wrong reasons, and you stopped me for all the right ones, even if you did have to shoot me. You were the only one willing to stand by Jack's orders and do the right thing."

"I'd hardly call shooting you the right thing," Ianto replied, waving him away. "And I opened it later."

"You opened it to save others," said Owen. "Because Lisa told you more people would die. I opened it for Diane. Gwen opened it for Rhys. You opened it to save the world. Like Tosh said, you're one of the good guys, Ianto."

Ianto stared at him until Owen shrugged. "And you make bloody good coffee."

Ianto saw Tosh and Gwen exchange a smile, but couldn't laugh with them, because the comment stung, even said in jest. "I'm more than that, Owen. I told you that. I. Am. More. And I can't be that if I stay here."

Owen took on a curious look. "Why not?"

"Why not what?" Ianto asked.

"Why not be more?" Owen replied. "Look, this is going to kill me to admit, and I will delete the CCTV footage and deny it ever happened, but you're damn good at this, and not just the coffee and filing. You're a strong shot, you can chase down a Weevil with the best of us, you're good with civilians, and you know your way around all the shit we've got buried in the archives. We need all of those things, and we need them even more now that Jack's gone and done a runner."

Gwen's head snapped up, but she didn't speak. Ianto glanced away from her toward Owen. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we reject your resignation. We need you. Be one of the good guys with us, because I don't think we can do it without you."

Gwen's mouth opened and shut, but when Ianto caught her eye, she smiled and nodded. Tosh spoke.

"He's right, about all of it. And you know your way around the computers better than anyone except me. Plus, we need someone to do some of the things Jack did, like talk to UNIT and Whitehall." Ianto snorted.

"I've been talking to them for the last three months. Jack's not the most diplomatic of liaisons."

"Keep talking, then, and do whatever else you have to do to keep the Hub up and running," Owen said. "Can you sign Jack's name?"

"Of course," Ianto replied. "Every good PA can forge their boss's signature."

"Why does he need to do that?" Gwen asked, speaking up. "Shouldn't we tell someone that Jack's left?"

"You're joking, right?" Owen asked. He turned toward her with a shake of his head. "If anyone knew Jack was gone, they'd be all over this place in an hour. And he wouldn't want that. So we're going to make sure that doesn't happen, got it? For Jack, even if the bastard's left us high and dry and on our own."

Gwen nodded silently, wide-eyed once more; Tosh murmured her approval with a smile. Owen turned to Ianto. "Can you do that?" he asked. "Sign for him, put off whoever calls for him? Lie to the Queen, if it comes down to it?" He stepped forward and met Ianto's eyes. "For Jack?"

Ianto let his head fall and blew out a long breath. He could say no, could walk out the door, and leave Torchwood behind him forever. He'd never see them again, and would have no reason to dwell on their anger once he was far from Cardiff. He could leave, build a normal life away from guns and aliens and missing bosses—he _should_ say no, start over, and stick to the plan. Only Owen had known exactly what to say, and he'd said it. _For Jack._ He wasn't asking Ianto to stay and make coffee, or to stay and save the world with Torchwood. He was asking Ianto to stay for Jack.

Closing his eyes, Ianto nodded. He'd been ready to leave it all, even Jack, but now that Jack was gone, he would stay—for Jack. So that Jack had something to come back to. And then maybe he'd leave, though he knew perfectly well it could be months if not years before Jack returned— _if_ he returned. Ianto couldn't wait forever, though. He deserved better. Glancing up at the others, he nodded again.

"Three months," he said. "And we should still think about hiring. I'll take over some of Jack's administrative duties—contact with Whitehall, UNIT, and other agencies, budgeting, basic maintenance and Hub routines."

"We need you in the field too," Owen said. "Start getting up to speed on your weapons."

Ianto waved him off. "I'm current, but I'll take some time to practice. I'll need help, however." He looked at each of them in turn. "I may continue to make the coffee, but I can't keep cleaning up on my own. And that includes the residents downstairs, and the tourist office. It's not fair to expect me to take on more if no one else does."

"I'll take care of cleaning up the Hub," Tosh said immediately, and Owen nodded.

"And I'll make sure the medical bay is up to snuff," Owen replied.

"SUV too?" Ianto asked, surprised at his boldness, and even more surprised when Owen nodded without hesitation. Gwen cleared her throat.

"I'll take the tourist office, and I can help with things downstairs, as long as you walk me through it," she said. "I know they all have their schedules and quirks and would rather not lose a hand or something if I mess up."

"I can help you with that," Owen said. "Especially with Janet. She likes me."

Ianto couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Who's in charge, then?" Ianto asked. When no one answered, he sighed. "Fine, we all pitch in until we either figure it out or need a leader, sound good?"

They nodded, and Tosh turned to hug him.

"Thank you for staying," she said softly. "I don't know what I'd do if we lost you too."

Ianto returned the embrace, but did not say that they would still lose him one day, whether he died for Torchwood or left on his own accord. She seemed genuinely glad that he was staying, and it almost made it worth it, that Tosh cared. He would miss her, some day, but not that day.

When they separated, Owen held out his hand, and Ianto took it, wondering again at the doctor's earlier words. Had he meant it, or was Owen rattled by Jack's disappearance and reaching out for support wherever he could find it? Ianto decided it didn't matter now that Owen was taking over the maintenance of the SUV, and especially of feeding Janet. The doctor might try to delete the CCTV footage, but Ianto knew how to recover it, and would be sure to make both audio and video records of Owen's promise to help out more.

Gwen tilted her head and studied him before she nodded, stepped forward, and embraced him. "Owen's right," she said softly, running her hands down the front of his suit and straightening his tie. "We really do need you."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "You want me to order in food now, don't you?" he asked lightly. She laughed, stepping away.

"No, I'd actually like to go home." She sighed and turned to the others. "Jack's really gone, isn't he?"

Tosh and Owen nodded silently, and she looked to Ianto for an answer. "He's gone, Gwen, and we've no way of knowing if, or when, he's coming back."

She seemed to think about it. "When he does come back, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind," she said. "We don't know where he is, what he's doing, if he's safe—" She stopped before her voice rose too high. "But for now, I guess we keep on doing what we do without him, yeah?"

There was a moment of silence before Owen spoke. "We'll be fine. We can do this."

"We have to," Tosh said quietly.

"Then I say we start our tenure with a drink—Dockside, anyone?" Owen walked toward his station and began to shut down. He grabbed his coat and turned back toward them. "There's nothing that won't wait until the morning."

Ianto looked at Tosh, who nodded. "I'm in," she said. "I don't want to sit around here thinking about it."

"I'll route the alerts through…" Ianto stopped midsentence; normally Jack punched things through to his mysterious wrist strap. "A PDA, I guess. Give me a minute or two."

"Gwen?" asked Owen, and she smiled and nodded.

"Of course," she said. "I wouldn't miss it. I'll text Rhys and let him know."

Ianto hurried to his station and began to configure the system to send any alerts—the Rift, Weevils, odd police reports—to one of the PDAs they carried in the field. He wasn't entirely sure it would work, but he tried his best, and decided he couldn't be bothered to worry. They'd already saved the world once that week, and they'd lost their leader several times in the process. More than anyone in the city, Torchwood deserved a break.

After powering down the Hub and locking up, they all walked over to the Dockside, quiet at first, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Slowly they opened up, exchanging stories about Jack and Torchwood, and after several drinks, Owen asked about Jack's kiss with Ianto. Ianto had been waiting days for it and waved him off, telling them Jack was simply glad to see him and had whispered something about desperately needing coffee. Which wasn't completely untrue, since Jack had asked for coffee later in the archive. Owen snorted, Tosh smiled into her drink, and Gwen looked thoughtful; Ianto finished his drink and ordered another before it got too personal.

They were well beyond tipsy when they left, each finding their way home on foot or by cab. Ianto debated going back to the Hub, tempted to search for Jack some more, but decided he'd try again in the morning. Jack was gone, and if Ianto was staying with Torchwood, he needed at least one night off to deal with it—to accept that Jack had left, and that whatever they'd had going was truly over. He would miss Jack more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

Gazing up at the stars, Ianto wondered where Jack was at that moment. Or when. He could be in the future, in the past—anytime, anyplace. Ianto hoped Jack was safe, and happy, and most importantly, that he found his answers. Ianto did not dare think that Jack would come back to them; if he did, Ianto would most likely be gone anyway, and anything between them had ended the night Jack had returned from 1941 and Ianto had decided to leave Torchwood.

Then again, Torchwood had a way of messing up even the best-laid plans, and Ianto only hoped that Torchwood—or Jack—didn't end his plans for a normal life before it even began.

With a smile and a sigh, Ianto offered a salute to the stars and made his way home, feeling both cautiously optimistic and completely unprepared for a new day at Torchwood—on their own, without Jack.

* * *

Author's Note:

I apologize for the long wait, but between getting sick, ending the school year, and going on vacation, I had little time or energy for finishing a tough ending. Thank you for sticking with it and reading this story. I hope it was satisfactory and that you enjoyed this look at the end of series one—let a girl know, yeah? Reviews always make an author's day, because we know we're not shouting silently into the dark. Thanks again!


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